


Small Gods

by any_open_eye



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 09:07:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20337619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/any_open_eye/pseuds/any_open_eye
Summary: John feels the edge of the cliff spread out before him. One wrong move and he will tip over.  He forces himself to slow down and breathe. “We don’t know what repeated exposure to my—to my abilities does to a person.”Martin takes a seat on the other side of the desk. “Then I suppose after this we will. Because I’m not letting you out of this room, John.”(Martin volunteers.)





	Small Gods

**Author's Note:**

> This has been done a bunch of times already, but I love this scenario.

Martin stands in the doorway of John’s office. 

His hair has grown long enough to flop into his eyes and he’s leaner than he was before, and not in an entirely healthy way. The circles under his eyes are more prominent, and his clothes are creased and look slept-in. John feels a simultaneous pang of camaraderie and annoyance. What right does Martin have to look so pathetic? So gaunt and exhausted, when he doesn’t have this endless itching compulsion under his skin? 

“The others tell me you’re unable to help yourself,” Martin says steadily. 

It takes John a woefully depressing amount of time to realize he’s being spoken to. Right now Martin looks just about as animate as the lamp and desk and tiny window. Present, but not conscious. John drags his eyes back to Martin’s face, from where they’d settled to his throat. His throat, where his words come from. 

“Uhh.” He closes his eyes. The air against his face feels trembling and unreal. “Yes. That’s—that’s accurate. I’m sure I can, though. I’m clearly just not trying hard enough.” 

He doesn’t mean it to come out so bitter, so mean. What is he doing that’s so terrible, really? He isn’t trapping people forever in branching, endless corridors, or twisting their bones around. He’s just listening. He’s just feeding. 

“You don’t have to.” Martin steps into the office and closes the door behind him. “Feed on me.” 

John says nothing. The clock in the corner counts seconds. “I beg your pardon?” 

“I’m your assistant,” Martin says. “I know I work for Peter now, but I’m technically still an employee of the Archive. So. I’ll do it. That way you won’t have to hurt anyone else.” 

John’s stomach clenches, whole body tight with yearning. “Martin, you shouldn’t—the dreams—.” 

“I already dream about you.” 

John feels the edge of the cliff spread out before him. One wrong move and he will tip over. He forces himself to slow down and breathe. “We don’t know what repeated exposure to my—to my abilities does to a person.” 

Martin takes a seat on the other side of the desk. “Then I suppose after this we will. Because I’m not letting you out of this room, John.” 

John laughs, a stab of sharp delight moving through him. “You think you can stop me?”

“Yes.” No hesitation. “You might have godlike observational abilities, Jon, but you are still quite a small man.” 

“I’m not small.” Jon’s exhaustion is momentarily forgotten as he puffs up in irritation. “I’m taller than both of my parents. You’re just…unnaturally large.” 

Martin huffs out a laugh. “Maybe. All the better to overpower small gods. Now. Ask me.”


End file.
